


There's Just Something About The Farmer's Daughter

by Snugglebuttkitten



Series: The Most Beautiful Melody [8]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: AU of an AU?, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Kwamis, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Country AU, Delinquent!Luka, F/M, Good, Gratuitous Make Out Scenes, Hate to Love, Heartland AU, Horse!Tikki, Love/Hate, Mutual Pining, Opposites Attract
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:14:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23925973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snugglebuttkitten/pseuds/Snugglebuttkitten
Summary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng is a good girl. She does what her parents ask, she gets good grades, and she spoends all of her freetime training with her horse, Tikki, to become the next Junior Olympian. She doesn't have time for boys. Certainly not bad boy juvenile delinquents like Luka Couffaine, who inexplicably make her blood catch fire...So why is she laying awake in the middle of the night, thinking about the way his lips had felt pressed to hers?
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Tikki
Series: The Most Beautiful Melody [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/986736
Comments: 15
Kudos: 120





	There's Just Something About The Farmer's Daughter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [volti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/volti/gifts).



> Voltiiiii. Ask and you shall receive. You wanted me to write a Gratuitous Make Out Scene Starring Lukanette, and I do hope I delivered ;)
> 
> This is one of two AU ideas I had, both involving Love/Hate relations but very different scenarios and AUs so there might be another in the future but we will see ;) I might actually end up making the other one a multi Chaptered fic

Marinette sighed restlessly, staring at her ceiling in frustration as she tried desperately to fall asleep. It was well past midnight and she couldn’t afford to lose sleep. She had an important test in school tomorrow, and then she had an even more important training session after school with her riding instructor. Madame Sancoeur had said last time they had a session that she believed Marinette was just about ready to go Pro, especially with a horse like Tikki at her side. While young, the Arabian Appaloosa cross was a skilled eventer. She picked up the training quickly and possessed the same drive to succeed that Marinette always had. The filly loved to win, that was sure, and Madame Sancoeur had said that she believed Marinette and Tikki might even make it to the Junior Olympics if they wanted it badly enough. That wasn’t what was keeping her up, though.

No, it wasn’t her dreams and aspirations which were usually the cause of her laying awake at night. Her reason for still being awake was a lot more frustrating and confusing. Luka Couffaine had  _ kissed _ her and Marinette wasn’t sure how to feel about that. On the one hand, she knew she ought to feel repulsed. Luka was an interloper. An unwelcome intrusion in her otherwise perfect world. She didn’t want him here, she never had. But her parents, as much as she loved and adored them and appreciated all they had done to make her dreams a reality, were too compassionate for their own good. When they had learned of the nineteen year old sitting in a jail cell, awaiting a crime he may or may not have committed (her parents were sure he either didn’t do it, or had a good reason for doing it), they had offered to sponsor him at their Horse Rehabilitation Ranch. Second Chance took in the battered, bruised, and abused all the time. It made sense to them that they might work their magic on a kid who never had a fighting chance just as easily as they did on traumatized rescue horses. Marinette was less convinced.

She had begged her parents to reconsider. They had the horses to think of; not just their more valuable ones, but the rescue horses that had already been dealt a tough blow in life and couldn’t afford another one. Unfortunately, her parents were adamant and three weeks ago, Luka Couffaine had crash landed into her life. With his tall, lean-muscled frame, his ocean eyes and that mop of black and teal that he called hair, he was every teenage girl’s fantasy bad boy come to life. Only problem was, Marinette wasn’t every teenage girl. She didn’t  _ get _ crazy over boys. She got crazy over  _ horses _ . She was your typical horse obsessed country girl. From the time she had been born, she had lived and breathed all things horse and it didn’t matter that her closest friend was Tikki, or that most of the kids at school thought she was weird, or that she had never had a boyfriend or even a crush, because she had a former Olympian telling her that  _ she _ might be good enough to go all the way and that was enough for her. So why did her heart leap into overdrive, why did her palms start sweating and her throat seem to swell up every time Luka turned his ocean eyes on her?

From the moment he arrived, Marinette had been determined to hate him and he made it easy most of the time. Everything about him pissed her off. He had this cavalier attitude that drove her crazy. He lacked drive and ambition, was lazy and arrogant and cocky and flirtatious with just about every female he came in contact with  _ except her _ and she hated him even more that that bothered her as much as it did. Because Marinette Dupain-Cheng 100% did  _ not _ like Luka Couffaine. She didn’t find his stupid face attractive, she didn’t find the way he played guitar mesmerizing and she definitely didn’t like the way he had held her so close and so tenderly when she had reluctantly agreed to dance with him at the school’s spring fling earlier that night… if only to get him to shut up about it. And most of all she definitely, without a doubt,  _ did not _ like the way he had cupped her cheeks so gently as if she were made of the most fragile glass and kissed her like she was the most precious being in the world.

Luka Couffaine kissed her as if he was in love with her. Or at least, that’s how she imagined someone might kiss the girl they loved. She had no actual experience to draw upon. And as much as she hated to admit it, as much as she would deny it if anyone asked, there was a small part of her that wanted it to be true. That wanted to read between the lines and make something out of nothing because she was stupid and apparently a glutton for punishment. Hadn’t Luka already proven time and again that he cared only about himself? Hadn’t he proven time and again that he was unreliable, untrustworthy, and insincere? He didn’t care about her, no matter how that small part of her yearned to deny it.

Groaning, Marinette sat up abruptly. This was getting her absolutely nowhere and if she couldn’t fall asleep out here then perhaps she could visit Tikki. She had owned the mare for nearly four years now, since she had been a newborn Filly. Tikki was one of their rescues. Her mother died giving birth to her and since it was summer, Marinette had ended up taking care of the orphaned filly day and night nursing her back to health. From that was born an unbreakable bond and while Tikki liked other people, was friendly with them, Marinette was the only person she had ever allowed to ride her. Even though she couldn’t talk, Tikki always managed to make Marinette feel better and sooth her fears. Decision made, she kicked off her covers and slid from bed. She was wearing a thin tank top and shorts, but spring in Phoenix meant that even at night it was more than warm enough that she didn’t bother throwing anything else on. She slipped from her room, boots in one hand, and slipped quietly out the kitchen door. Only then did she put the boots on and make her way across the stretch of dirt that lay between the house and the stables.

The walk was brief and before long, she found herself pushing open the stable doors. The door groaned and squeaked as it opened and a few of the horses whinnied and nickered at her in greeting. Marinette normally took her time moving through the stables, taking a moment to greet each horse, but tonight her frazzled nerves drove her straight to the white, red, and black speckled face of Tikki who had poked her head over the stall door the moment the barn door had opened. As Marinette reached her, the mare huffed a breath of greeting at her owner that rustled the loose locks of hair that had framed Marinette’s face. She normally kept her hair up and out of her face during the day but she hadn’t felt like trying to locate a brush and a hairband in the dark of her bedroom. She was the only one awake anyway, and Tikki had already seen her with her hair down. Luckily, the mare wasn’t one to judge.

“Hey, pretty girl. You have trouble sleeping as well?” She asked softly, settling one hand on the underside of the horse’s muzzle and the other on top as she leaned into her. Tikki held still, ears pricked forward as she listened to her owner’s voice. “Yeah, me too. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she admitted, speaking as if the mare understood her and could respond. While she couldn’t respond with words, she did whinny and that was comforting enough for the almost eighteen-year-old. Marinette isn’t sure how long she stays there, just holding the horse and drawing comfort from her presence but eventually the previous tension she had felt drains and leaves her feeling much more at peace than she had been when she had crawled out of bed. Unfortunately, the feeling doesn’t last.

“You feeling up for a late night ride, pretty girl? Could do us both some good,” she suggested, pressing a kiss against the mare’s velvet nose as she nickered in response. Straightening up, Marinette turned to head for the tack room only to run straight into something solid and muscular and very much human. She gasps, preparing to scream when a hand clamps over her mouth and ocean eyes flash down at her.

“Relax, it’s just me,” Luka says, not dropping his hand until he is certain she won’t scream. Marinette doesn’t scream, but she does glare at him hard enough that she could probably curdle milk if she tried hard enough.

“Are you insane? What the hell are you doing in here!?” She snapped, stepping back and crossing her arms defensively. He looks less than impressed at her attempts at intimidation but answers her anyway.

“I heard the door open and came to investigate. Shouldn’t you be in bed, Princess?” He asked, his gaze purposefully raking over her scantily clad form. Marinette gasps, cheeks flushing as she shifts her arms to more fully cover her chest. Luka, at least, has enough tact to shift his gaze away and it's too dark to tell but she thinks his own cheeks are looking a little rosier than usual.

“Not that it’s  _ any _ of your business, but I couldn’t sleep. I’m just gonna exercise Tikki for a bit and then I’ll head to bed,” she finally said testily, scowling but still too embarrassed by her lack of covering to look at him headon. “And don’t call me Princess.”

“Are you sure that’s wise? Aren’t there like… wild animals out there?” Luka asks, and that small traitorous part of her dares to hope he actually sounds concerned for her. The rest of her just stiffens up indignantly, finally returning her gaze to his with a stubborn set to her jaw.

“I can take care of myself,” she snapped, stepping around him and stalking towards the tack room. She is almost hyper aware of him following after her, but she resolutely ignores him as she flips on the light and steps into the small, closet-like space to get what she needs. She is more focused on the task at hand now, rifling through the various tack to get the set she wants, so she doesn’t immediately realize why Luka has gone quiet until he speaks, voice barely above a whisper.

“ _ Jesus, _ Princess,” he breathes roughly and she pauses in the process of trying to reach her favorite bridle that someone had so rudely placed on the top shelf to glance over her shoulder at him. In the bright fluorescent lights, she can now clearly see Luka and he isn’t just flushed. He’s as bright red as a tomato. She frowns, momentarily confused before she realizes that if she can see him, that means he can see  _ her  _ and she is in no way dressed modestly. A glance down reveals that her tank has ridden up over her navel and her sleep shorts are low slung enough that she has absolutely no doubt in her mind what made him take the Lord’s name in vain. Squeaking in mortification, Marinette immediately moved to clap her hands over the tattoo that she is certain she just flashed at Luka. Unfortunately, the sudden movement only serves to unbalance her even more than she already had been and the shelf she had been leaning on suddenly gives out and sends her and several buckets of tack crashing to the ground.

“Marinette!” Luka is at her side instantly and she can only watch somewhat befuddled as he frets and worries over her, running nearly clinical hands over her as he checks for injuries. “Are you hurt? Anything broken? Did you hit your head?”

“Luka…  _ Luka _ … Luka, I’m  _ fine, _ ” she insists, finally grabbing his face to stop the torrent of words pouring forth. He blinks, deep blue eyes finally focusing on hers and she desperately hopes he doesn’t notice the way her breath catches in her throat.

“Are you sure? I could go get help or…” his voice is softer now, less panicky as he searches her gaze and she belatedly realizes that her hands are still framing his face and his hand has dropped to her hip, fingers very distractingly stroking against the tattoo that she had gotten a few months ago. It was her one and only act of teenage rebellion but she had been damn proud of it.

“I- I’m positive,” she squeaks, cheeks heating up. He continues searching her gaze and finally seems to find what he’s looking for because he suddenly pulls back and rises, offering her a hand up. She accepts his assistance, trying not to show how affected she is by his proximity. Once she’s standing, Luka steps back and averts his gaze.

“You… you should head to bed, Princess. I’ll get this cleaned up,” he said, focusing pointedly at the mess she has made of the tack room. She follows his gaze and grimaces as she sees a mess of bridles and lead ropes, along with various grooming supplies and other horse related paraphernalia laying in a tangled heap on the ground.

“I’m the one who made the mess. I should be one to clean it up,” she argued, immediately receiving an exasperated look in response.

“Are you always this argumentative or am I just special?” He asked drily. She huffs.

“I am not argumentative,” she argued. He quirks a brow, his lips twitch and she can’t help it. A giggle escapes her. Now both of his eyebrows are near his hairline, smile broadening slightly as her giggle morphs into peals of laughter that have her nearly doubled over in mirth. The whole situation just seems so comical now and she isn’t sure any force on earth could stop her now that she’s started… except, perhaps, Luka suddenly grabbing her face and crashing his lips to hers. She gasps the moment his lips are on hers, shock freezing her for an instant before her eyes snap shut and her fingers curl into the front of his hoodie and she finds herself pressing impossibly closer. This is everything their first kiss was and more. 

That first kiss they shared, in the darkened school corridor with their fellow students and their teachers just a few doors down, had been soft and sweet and gentle. This one was fire and brimstone, full of passion and promise. It was almost too intense, the way his lips seemed to fuse and mold to hers. The way they coaxed hers to move with his through gentle encouragement. His hands were on her hips burning her through the thin cloth of her shorts like a branding iron and they were so much bigger than she remembered, long fingers digging in slightly as he dragged her flush up against him, while simultaneously pressing her back against the table that dominated half of the small room.

They eventually have to part, if for no other reason than the fact that Marinette definitely needs to breath. Oxygen is a good thing. Luka doesn’t give her much of a chance to start overthinking things though, as she has a tendency to do, because in the next moment he is lifting her to sit on the edge of the table, sweeping several items to the ground to make room for her. And then he’s between her thighs and it takes everything in her not to whine at the way every part of him is pressed to every part of her and she’s never felt so soft or small before in her life but it isn’t a  _ bad _ feeling, not at all. In fact, it’s a really, really  _ good _ feeling if she’s being completely honest. Then he’s brushing kisses along her jaw and up to her ear before trailing his lips down the column of her throat to the juncture of her neck and shoulder. When he begins to suck and nibble against the sensitive skin there, Marinette finally gives in and  _ whines _ and his fingers tighten on her hips to the point of almost bruising her but she doesn’t care because her fingers are in his hair tugging just as sharply as he is gripping her and the mild pain only makes everything a thousand times better. Only once he is sufficiently satisfied that he has well and truly staked his claim, marked her for all to know that she is most definitely taken, does he drag his lips back up to seal with hers once more.

Marinette, seemingly having taken leave of her modesty and inhibitions, is a more active participant now and when he brushes his tongue along the seam of her lips she hesitates only briefly before granting him the entrance he desires. The first brush of his tongue against hers is an odd sensation, and not just because of the steel ball of his tongue piercing. It isn’t a bad feeling though, so she doesn’t immediately recoil. He does it a few times, brushing and retreating, teasing until she tentatively mimics the action and is rewarded with the feeling of him gently sucking on her tongue. And if that isn’t one of the most erotic sensations she had ever experienced in her young life, she isn’t sure what else is. Certainly it’s enough to have her moaning softly into his open mouth as her fingers scrape gently against his scalp causing him to shudder slightly against her. She would likely be embarrassed tomorrow by the sounds she made but at the moment she can’t bring herself to give a single damn because Luka is evoking feelings in her that she didn’t even know she possessed.

Eventually they wind down, passionate makeout turning into heated kisses and then to soft touches. Luka’s forehead is pressed against hers and while he no longer holds her with bruising force, his hands still rest against her hips with his fingers splayed, just as hot and branding as his lips. Their breathing is a little bit ragged and their hearts are trying to run a marathon but their smiles are warmer and more genuine than they have ever been when directed at one another and there is an obvious lack of pretense standing between them now that they’ve managed to drop that last barrier they had erected. Marinette is surprisingly the first to break the silence that has settled between them, and perhaps her smile is borderline dopey but for once she isn’t all that concerned with how she looks or how others might perceive her.

“Wow,” she whispers into the air between them, and when Luka’s lips quirk in response it isn’t with his usual devil-may-care attitude.

“Wow is right, Princess,” he agrees, even the nickname sounding different than it had before. He lifts one hand from her hip to trace his fingers along the line of her jaw and there is a hint of insecurity in his eyes as he searches her mediteranian gaze. “Are you okay? I mean… with what just happened?”

“Yes,” she breathed a bit dreamily, and then at noting the uncertainty still lurking in his gaze she repeats herself a bit more firmly, a bit more self-assured. “Yes.”

His relief is palpable as he presses his lips to hers once more, keeping the kiss chaste but no less filled with promise. “I really, really like you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” he admits, thumb sweeping rhythmically across her cheek and she smiles widely as she responds in kind.

“I really, really like you, too, Luka Couffaine.”

“Would you go on a date with me? A real one?” He asked after another beat of silence and she is so giddy and happy that she has to bury her head in his shoulder as she breathlessly responds.

“I’d really, really like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Lemme Know What You Think!


End file.
